


I can't face your touch

by Jaspersfic



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dissociation, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaspersfic/pseuds/Jaspersfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is happy to be home with Steve, and wants life to resume as normal.  The only problem is that every time he is touched, he begins to disassociate.  With Hydra it meant he was able to survive, but now with Steve it's destroying him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on the meme: "Every time Bucky and Steve fuck, Bucky always, unfailingly dissociates, because that was the easiest way not to get hurt whenever HYDRA fucked him." 
> 
> Check more notes if worried you will be triggered and for a more detailed summary

Steve looked at him like he was the sun, smiled at him like he was the sweetest little creature, touched him as though he was made of the finest silk. Even as he hauled him from the gutter, wiped a mixture of blood and mud from his clothes, Steve had treated him like an angel.

 

He remembered being Bucky then. Not all of it, but snatches. Enough for his heart to warm at those careful touches, enough to make him lean into the contact and smile to himself. It was good, it was familiar, and there was a kindness in it he hadn't felt for a long time. He had let Steve help him to stand up, and limped with him to the room that Steve was staying in.

 

The bullet holes in the wall made him flinch. He had held the gun, shot through the brick, and he stared at those holes blankly as more of the Soldier's memories came back, digging into his mind. He wondered how he could have allowed Steve so close, tried to flinch away from him.

 

He tried to hide the pain, but even looking at that wall made his heart race. He could remember being given the orders, having accepted them, and he couldn't breathe.

 

"Bucky!" Steve gripped his shoulder tightly, shaking him to attention. "Bucky, you okay?"

"I..." He stared at the wall. "I shot the man."

"He's okay Buck. He's okay... look, you shouldn't be here. We'll just stay for one night okay, get you cleaned up... then we can take you to New York, Stark's going to help keep you safe. Lots of people are after you, but it wasn't your fault, we're going to prove that..." Steve was still babbling and his hand was on Bucky's shoulder, and the words were flowing over Bucky's head, his attention focussed on the cold ball of terror in his gut.

 

He thought of their past, their time together but the image of the tenement in Brooklyn faded for a moment, replaced by a beautiful house with a piano in the corner, a man with soft blond hair playing there. At first he thought it was Steve, the outline of the face familiar, but as the figure twisted he knew that this wasn't him. This was the man he was afraid of most, and he straightened unconsciously, awaiting more orders.

 

There were hands on him, and he tried not to shudder as he was led to the bathroom, undressed, pushed under warm water. The water that swirled down the plug hole was tinged grey with specks of red, and when the hands released him he crumpled to the floor. The water ran down his body, wiping away the dirt, and he lay there panting. There was a knock on the door and he jumped, looking for anything he could use to arm himself.

 

He shouldn't be armed, he knew that. He had to behave. He didn't recognise this room, didn't recognise where he was. His handler was outside the door and he needed to listen. He had to give them what they wanted.

"Bucky?" Came the voice again, and something clicked back in his brain. Steve.

 

"Yeah?" He called out. "What is it?"

"You okay in there? You've been in there for half an hour, I'm worried about the water bill..." There was an awkward laugh in Steve's voice, and Bucky recognised it as a kindness, an attempt to spare his fear, excusing his terror. Giving him a way out.

"Can you come in?" He asked. Even if this wasn't Steve, it was safer to ask like this than have to drag himself to the door. The door creaked open, and Steve smiled at him.

"Hey..."

 

"Sorry." Bucky muttered, lifting his hand and rubbing his fingers through his hair. "Been a long couple of days."

"It's okay." Steve promised gently. "It's okay. I got a towel for you."

 

"Thanks." Bucky stood, turning down the shower and grabbing the towel. It was soft, white, warm against his skin. He let the fabric’s warm touch anchor him, and looked up at Steve.

"What happened there?"

"I..." Bucky hesitated, then shrugged. "No clue. You said about moving right?" 

 

There was no way he could ignore the brilliant smile that his recall seemed to cause on Steve's handsome face. That smile brought with it its own flash of memories, of lazy kisses and snatched moments in tents. They had been lovers. He couldn't understand what that meant, but he knew it had never hurt, that it had never been like it had been with Sandy. Alexander. The man at the piano. Alexander was a bad man, and he was dead. Steve was alive, and so good, and Bucky needed to cling to that.

 

"Yeah, I did. New York, you'll love it there. Some of the old restaurants survived, and the galleries... and Stark's tech. You're going to have a great time." Steve was babbling again, but Bucky focussed on him, and when some clean clothes got thrown to him he pulled them on.

 

He wanted to be alright for Steve, more than anything. He wanted to be someone who was worthy of him. He thought there might have been a time when he was, but that was long past.

 

There were times when it was manageable, when he could focus. When they were sat opposite each other and eating, that was good, he could focus on the taste. Taste was one of the best things about this new world, something that had been missing for so long. Hydra never needed to give him taste, but Steve gave him the best food. Eating itself was hard, too much food in one meal left him sick, but Steve was helping, giving him small titbits that were full of flavour.

 

He was coping when they were in the same space, as long as they weren't touching. Or even in the same space, and touching, if they were sparring. Because sparring, he could remember. Sparring was something he had done with Hydra, but it had never been bad. It had hurt, but it had never been so terrible that he had had to go inside himself. Even when he was fighting ten armed men, the fight itself had never been enough to make him hide, so fighting Steve was simple.

 

It was only after, when Steve's hand brushed his, or he threw an arm around his shoulders, that Bucky felt the darkness begin to grow in his mind. He'd had a lot of experience with hiding, and it came out too easily. He could lose hours that way, days.

 

It had ended up with one of the Strike Team or another person in Hydra just needing to beckon him over, and he started to fall into himself. He would obey what they wanted, do what they asked, but the pain barely registered and at the end he would come around in his cell, thighs covered in blood and other filth. They didn't even realise when he went in on himself, not all of the time. But sometimes they would catch him, and then it would hurt more as they tried to pull him back into now.

 

He shivered, and Steve was by his side in an instant, handing him a bag and gripping his shoulder.

"Need you to pack up your stuff okay? You'll really like the team, promise. They're great."

"Thank you." Bucky murmured blankly, pulling away to pack. He tried not to see the way Steve's face fell as he shoved his few possessions - all gifts from Steve the previous day - into his bag. 

 

The move was quick, and soon they were in their new rooms, guided by a robotic voice. They were good rooms, he supposed. An entire floor in this incredible building to themselves, and Steve had given him his own bedroom for privacy. He thanked him, and then when left alone he investigated under the guise of arranging his possessions.

 

Cameras in two corners, a couple of speakers, a lock on the door. A bed that he could fit under, a wardrobe that he could hide items beneath, a small table beside the bed. There was a small bathroom in the next room, and a connecting door between them. There were a few things to make his life easier, and he was grateful for that, but he was painfully aware of Steve's room next door. Steve might want to pick up where they left off, but he couldn’t, and he couldn’t explain why he couldn’t. Steve needed to be kept safe from that.

 

There was a knock on the wood and he tensed, standing to attention. Steve stuck his head around the door, smiling at him fondly.

"Hey, how is it?"

"It's good." Bucky answered with a smile. "Come in, have a look."

"Like what you've done with it." Steve agreed softly. "Anything more you need?"

"Food?"

"Team's having a meal later but Buck... if you can't deal with the entire team, we can break it down, you don't have to meet them all..."

"I can do it." Bucky answered, crossing his arms and then standing up once more. "Thank you."

 

He walked towards the door, careful to duck away from Steve's hand when he reached out towards him. Confusion flashed in Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Steve murmured. "I should have thought that you might not be ready for that.”

 

Bucky flinched slightly. He remembered that he had liked being Steve's lover, had felt safe with him, and the thought of losing that hurt him deeply. He swallowed and looked up at him again. 

"I do. I just feel a bit jumpy right now."

 

"I can wait." Steve said simply. "I've got all the time in the world for you Bucky."

"Thanks." Bucky made himself smile in response. If he concentrated, he could remember lying in bed with Steve, kissing him deeply and leaning against his chest. He could remember Steve's hands on his hips, and things had felt good. But even the thought of it happening now made his skin crawl, and that distance start to beckon. He took a deep breath and headed down to dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

There were seven people in the kitchen. Six if you didn't count Bucky, five if you didn't count Steve either. One he recognised - he'd shot her. Another was a sniper, happy to talk about guns. Another was an alien, but seemed to give him some space. One was a quiet doctor, and Bucky didn't like him. Didn't like doctors. He was afraid he would cut him open, hurt him, make him scream as punishment for some crime. When Steve realised he kept hiding, it would be the doctor in charge of punishing him. But Steve wasn’t like Alexander. Steve wouldn’t have him punished for things he couldn’t control.

Then there was Howard. He had to keep telling himself that it wasn't Howard, but it was hard when the smile was the same. He sat through the meal, and he let the chaos wash over him. It was easy enough. He was used to the STRIKE team eating around him, and just sitting there in the middle.

"Hey?" There was a tap on his metal wrist and his eyes focussed on the plate in front of him. Steve spoke gently. "You need to eat. Just a little bit okay?"  
"Just a bit." He echoed, picking up his fork and raising the food to his lips. It tasted incredible. He couldn't put into words how much he had missed tasting things, how much he had missed the chance to enjoy the flavours, and he closed his eyes, savouring the small bite that he had. He still couldn't eat much.

Now he was eating, the others stopped addressing him. He was painfully aware of Steve beside him, of the presence of someone so close, but he made himself stay. He caught his name mentioned, and tuned into the conversation. Howard was talking.  
"So what, this is your boyfriend? Bucky and Captain America were fucking?"  
"Tony." Steve's voice sounded far too tired. "It wasn't like that. Please..."  
"I just can't believe half my teenage fantasies were-" Tony's voice was cut off with a yelp, and he glared towards the doctor. 

"Anyway." Steve said gently, and there was a touch of sadness in his voice. "It's been a long time. I haven't even talked to Bucky about it yet, but it's got to be up to him. I'm not going to expect him to be my..." Steve's voice trailed off. Bucky knew they'd never been boyfriends. They had been lovers. They had been sweethearts, lovers, partners. Boyfriends sounded to him like something a teenage girl would have. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"Lover?" He finished, licking his lips. He didn't want Steve to be sad. More than that though, he wanted to be with Steve again, wanted his life to carry on like it should have done. Wanted to be with him, to kiss him, to be able to remember all those moments where touch had felt good. When Steve's smile had felt good. "Because Steve, I'd like that." The words escaped him almost too quickly, but he was pleased he'd said them. It was honest. It took a few moments for the concern to hit. For him to put together that because he hid when he was touched, he wasn't going to be a very good boyfriend. He nearly panicked, but he couldn’t panic now.

The other sniper was grinning, and so was the woman he shot. Howard looked surprised. Not Howard, Tony. Tony looked surprised. The doctor was frowning slightly but Bucky didn't regret saying it. No matter what punishment he had just earned, it was worth it. Maybe Steve wouldn't notice when he hid. STRIKE often didn't. 

Bucky tried to focus, but the conversation was moving on, and being out in such a large group for so long was starting to tire him. He kept smiling at Steve, remembering the moments that they had shared before. When he looked at Steve, he felt a warmth in his heart he hadn't felt for a long time. He wanted to feel that again, wanted to remember it. He took a deep breath and let it out as a yawn, silently asking to be excused.  
"Ready to go to bed now Bucky?" Steve asked, and his hand was on Bucky's metal arm as he helped him from the table. Bucky was grateful for that. The metal arm being touched didn't confuse him, didn't leave him muddled or frightened. Bucky nodded, and they retreated to their floor.

Steve kept touching him. His hands were on Bucky's shoulder, or his waist, and each touch brought new memories crashing back, made it harder to stay now when it would be so much easier to become empty. He took slow breaths to try and stay, and it was working. His human fingers threaded with Steve's and he gave a gentle squeeze. Bucky squeezed back.

He remembered that. Remembered walking hand in hand in the woodland, after they had taken another base. Remembered kisses, touches. It had been one of his favourite places to hide, when he had still had that. And when he had lost his ability to remember anywhere safe, the warmth it offered still lingered just at the edge of reach. It was that warmth that was beckoning now, as Steve smiled at him.

Steve leaned in so that their lips were nearly brushing.  
"I love you Bucky." He murmured. "You're doing so well, and I love you." Bucky opened his mouth to return the words, but before he could Steve's lips brushed his.

The asset knew how to kiss. It knew it as well as it knew how to maintain a gun, how to shoot or kill, how to fight. Kissing had been part of its training, and it knew how to open its mouth right, how to make soft little noises. It worked through the routine as though it were following instructions, and hid further in the darkness of his own mind.

"Bucky?" There was a strong hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to unfamiliar blue eyes. Familiar blue eyes. Steve. He was laying down, and he looked from side to side. He was in the bed he had been given earlier. He didn't know how he had got to bed. They had been in the corridor. "You with me buddy?"  
"Yeah." He mumbled. "I'm ...I'm sorry. I just... I dunno, I switched off for a moment, that's all. I'm here now."

"Gave me quite a scare." Steve mumbled, but he was smiling. "Good to have you back."   
"I'm not going anywhere." Bucky promised, but he didn't lean in for another kiss. Not when it could hurt Steve. He wanted to kiss him again, but he couldn't risk hurting him. There had to be a way around it. He could still taste Steve's tongue in his mouth, and he smiled slightly at it. It was familiar. After all of this time, Steve still tasted of home.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky wasn't good with being patient. He knew that he had to be, that the more effort he put into rushing this, the less it worked. That was the cruelty of it. If he tried to race through deprogramming, make himself feel, he would fail. But he wanted to go back to how it had been before. That had been good, the time in the forest as they had kissed and touched and fucked. There had been no fear then, he hadn't lost himself. It had just been sex, the taste of Steve on his lips, and it had felt like home.

He wanted that now. More than anything. All the time he couldn't manage that, he was letting Steve down, letting Hydra control him. He didn't want that. He didn't want Hydra to still be there, stopping him. It had been bad enough before, when they had controlled him, when they had taught him to hide in himself at moments like that. This was worse. They were gone, but they were still winning, and that was worse than anything before.

Steve frustratingly, was horribly patient. Steve was kind, and listened to him, and accepted his problems. He blew kisses to Bucky, held his metal hand, and always took steps to hide the pain from him, to stop Bucky from worrying. He was doing so much to stop Bucky from slipping into it once more and it wasn't helpful. He wanted to go back to how it was, and Steve was stopping him.

A lot of the time, he would sleep with Bucky in bed, one or other of them wrapped in blankets to stop any contact between them from happening. It meant he could smell Steve, feel his arms around him, but not get trapped in his own brain. It was a kindness.   
It didn't feel like that. It felt like a joke, spiting him to put him so close to what he wanted but not let him touch it.

He woke early one morning to Steve's smile. The other man was barely awake, his expression gentle, kind.  
"Hey Buck..." He greeted him, yawning again and stretching. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah." Bucky smiled, transfixed as Steve licked his lips and yawned. He wanted to trace his fingers over those lips, kiss them. He wanted to be with Steve, to wipe away all that Hydra had done. He wanted to forget them, to live once more in the memories that he had had of Steve. To lose himself in Steve's touch the way that he had before.

It was the work of a second to close the gap between them, to press his lips to Steve's, to taste him, to run his tongue over Steve's lips. The familiar taste gave him a sense of calm, even as the darkness threatened once more, and once again his past devoured him. It was just easier to give in, to let the blackness overtake him and allow autopilot to take over. He couldn't think, wasn't aware of what was happening. It was dark, and Steve tasted of safety. But then Steve disappeared, and it was the Secretary staring down. STRIKE were nearby, laughing. He knew what he was meant to do. With trembling hands he unzipped the secretary's pants, running his hand over the shape of him and trying to fight the terror that was bubbling up inside of him. This was nothing new. He could do it.

A sharp pain stung his cheek and he jerked back to consciousness, metal hand reaching up to brush the red skin. He'd been hit. He looked up at Steve, ready to shout, and froze.

Steve was pale, his eyes wide. He was trembling slightly and looked like he was trying not to cry, blinking back tears as he tried to stay calm.  
"Steve?"  
"Hey..." Steve mumbled. "I... I'm sorry that I hit you."

"Why did you hit me?"  
"You went really weird Bucky. It wasn't you. You were quiet, you were just... you didn't listen when I said no."  
"I just kissed you."

Steve's twist contorted for a moment, and he frowned.   
"I kissed you." Bucky repeated, his voice sounding empty.  
"You didn't just kiss me." Steve murmured. "You kissed me, and then you... you put your hand down my pants."  
"I..." Bucky frowned, and tried to look Steve in the eyes, but Steve was looking down.  
"You touched me, and tried to pull my pants down. You started to kiss down my chest and I... I panicked." His hands were shaking. "I hit you and I'm sorry, I just..."

"I ... You..." Bucky murmured, taking a deep breath. "I nearly forced myself on you?"  
"It wasn't your fault." Steve answered quickly, defending him. "You didn't mean to. I know you didn't mean to. You weren't thinking."  
"I... I wasn't here. I was..."  
"It wasn't your fault." Steve promised, and he reached out to grasp the metal hand. Bucky squeezed his hand in return, pretending not to see how Steve was shaking.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days passed like a parody. Steve was near Bucky, always, but he was careful not to touch him. Bucky for his part tried to pretend he couldn't see the discomfort in Steve's eyes, the way he tensed and looked away.

Bucky wished the worst part was the fact he had nearly hurt Steve. He felt terrible for what he had done, for nearly forcing himself on him, but that wasn't what kept him awake at night as Steve dozed, blankets between them like a shield. The worst part, the bit that buzzed around his head at night, was that part of him blamed Steve for all of this. That he couldn't shake the feeling Steve was overreacting. If he hadn't hit him, what would have happened? Steve would have got jerked off, maybe got a blow job. Bucky sometimes thought that wasn't so bad. It wasn't anything they hadn't done before. 

Bucky hated that part of himself. The part that had become so used to Hydra's abuse, so accepting of it, that he felt Steve was overreacting. Steve was hurting and still hadn't stepped away, and yet Bucky blamed him for being hurt.

They lay in bed together, and Bucky had his eyes open, glaring at the wall as he cuddled up against Steve. He knew where he was. Stark Tower. New York. It was somewhere he was safe. There was no more Hydra here. Pierce was dead. He knew that. He knew all of it. He wanted to kiss Steve, to brush his lips against his own, but Steve looked so like Sandy... Like Pierce had, when he was younger. It was too much of a risk. Sandy was dead and still finding ways to torture him, and wasn't that just typical. He had what he wanted so close he could smell it, but it was closed off to him thanks to Hydra's games.

"Fuck." He breathed, anger inside him twisting into a knot. It wasn't Steve's fault. Steve was the damn victim here, and Bucky didn't know how he could ever have thought of blaming him. He had nearly raped Steve, in a way, and Steve still held him close. No matter how bad not kissing, not touching, was hurting him it must have been hurting Steve worse.

"What is it Bucky?" Came Steve's voice, gentle and soft as always, and Bucky realised with a jolt of guilt that Steve must have been laying there awake too. He could say it was nothing, and they could carry on lying in the dark in silence, or he could try to break the deadlock. That was really his only option. He couldn’t carry on like this. He took a deep breath and licked his lips, before twisting towards Steve. The blankets slid over him, and Steve moved back a little so that they could look at each other face to face.  
"I hate that I fucked it up. I want to be with you. I want..." He licked his lips again, and swallowed back the obscenities. This wasn't Hydra, he didn't need to beg for anyone's cock. He had to be honest. It was honesty Steve needed, not pornography. "I want to be with you. Like we were before. I hate that we aren't... that they took that away from me. That even though he's dead he still gets to win because every time you touch me I'm back with him. I want nothing more than to kiss you, to taste your lips, but if I do I'll be on my knees before I can think. I hate that they made me violate you like that, that I lost control and hurt you when that's not... that's the last thing I want. And I hate that I let it happen. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I can't kiss you because of what they did to me. That I have to sleep in a blanket like a straitjacket to make sure that I don't try and kill you, or start thinking you're one of them and do something that hurts you worse. I hate that I let them win..." He was panting now, out of breath, and Steve's arms around him felt secure.

Steve was pulling him closer, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was a tender gesture, one that was uniquely Steve, and when Bucky lifted his head he had to blink a few times to try and get rid of the tears. He knew what he looked like when he cried, and Steve didn’t need to see that.  
"Still here with me?"  
"Still here." Bucky confirmed, taking a deep breath and nodding. "Still here."

"Then they didn't win." Steve said, and it was his best calm voice. The one he used when people were frightened, and Bucky knew it should have annoyed him, but at that moment he just found it reassuring. "You survived it and they didn't win."  
"They left me tainted. I start getting close to you and I am back with Pierce and I can't-"  
"You aren't tainted. We just need to work out what we can do." Steve said clearly, and Bucky looked up with a frown.  
"Huh?"  
"We need to work out what we can do." Steve said, and now his eyes were shining more brightly. It looked like he was about to laugh.

Bucky still hadn't worked out the joke.  
"What?"  
"I could kiss you on the forehead, right? But not on the lips. There's stuff... there are things that make you go back there in your mind, but it's not everything." Steve was beaming now, and Bucky had a sudden flash of memory, of them sitting on the steps of some half-destroyed base. He'd found some chocolate, and Steve was joking, and everything had felt good. For a moment, his heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

He looked Steve in the eye.  
"You know we might have to try a few things? That I might think I’m with them when we try?”  
"Don't care." Steve answered, and there was a confidence in it that made Bucky's insides tie themselves in knots. "If you do that, I’ll pull you back out... look, it means a lot to you. And I want to do it. If this is how we have to do it, it's how we do it. We can make it work, you hear me?"

Bucky looked him in the eye and smirked.  
"Whatever you say Captain."


	5. Chapter 5

The list was Steve's idea. A page, divided in two which Bucky could fill in. At the top, Steve put a tick, and wrote 'forehead kiss' beneath it, then wrote 'Not now' in the other column and 'kissing' under it. Bucky managed a faint smile at the way he had phrased it, at the way he seemed to think this was just temporary. Bucky wasn't so sure, but he took the pen Steve offered, trying to think of what had made himself disappear inside himself. He carefully added what he could remember. Steve's hand on his human shoulder, gripping too hard. The arm around his waist. Being surprised was a big one, so he added that on as well, then pulled back to look at the paper.

He'd ruled out so much intimacy that he felt anger bubbling up again. He was doing this wrong, he wasn't coping well enough. Steve needed him to do better and he wasn't managing that. He glared down at the paper, and pushed it off to one side.  
"Let me see?" Steve asked, and Bucky shook his head.

"I have to add more." Bucky answered, working out what he could remember from his time with Sandy, or with STRIKE. Piano music was a bad one for him, so he added it to the not now line, and he couldn't give oral sex. He could remember being pushed against a wall, or face down against the floor. Standing in the shower under cold water, feeling all of the Strike team staring at him, and he gagged. He closed his eyes, ducking his head.

"Hey, Bucky..." There was a tapping sound, as Steve knocked his fingers against Bucky's metal arm, and he lifted his head up to see Steve there.  
"That work?"  
"That worked." Bucky agreed, adding it to the list with a tick. Then he added all the ones he had remembered to the not now list. All he could see looking at it was a list of his failings, and he held it out to Steve with a sense of shame.

Steve looked it over and smiled, looking delighted. His eyes were shining, and he sounded happy when he spoke.  
"You did great there Buck. Gives us something to start with."  
"Yeah." Bucky had tried to smile, but it had felt forced. If Steve noticed, he didn't comment on it.

It had given them some guidance of where to start, but it hadn't been enough. Bucky wasn't going to spend the rest of his life being kissed on his forehead and tapped on the metal arm. Not if he got to be Steve's lover. 

The first thing they had tried was Bucky being in control, getting to touch Steve all over while Steve lay there passively, moaning at the touches. It had been working for a little while, until Bucky had rushed it, had tried to prepare himself. He had felt himself slipping before he had even got into position above Steve's cock, and when he felt Steve pressing up into him he had found reality had faded out completely. He came around to see Steve smiling weakly.  
"Think that one's a no."   
Bucky had laughed without humour, and they had added it to not now list. It was far longer than the list of things that they could try.

Next, Bucky had tried fucking Steve. It had been going well until Steve had run a hand over the scarred shoulder as he stroked Bucky's cock, and it had been Sandy standing there. 

Bucky couldn't really remember what had happened when they had tried bondage. He remembered agreeing to it, and then there was nothing until the next morning, when he had come back to himself to find his face wet with tears. Steve hadn't been able to meet his eyes for a while, and he had been unable to keep himself from shaking. Steve wouldn't tell him what had happened that time, couldn't meet his eyes when he asked. Bucky didn't ask again.

After that, the list was forgotten about, and Bucky took care of his needs in the shower and cuddled up to Steve in bed at night, wrapped securely in his blanket once more.

The list didn't come up again for a while. Bucky got the feeling Steve was beating himself up about what had happened, but he didn't have the strength to argue with him right now. It was too much to bring up. They continued to circle around each other, what they wanted always painfully out of reach. 

At night, Bucky's dreams were filled with Sandy laughing at him.

It was only when Steve nearly died on a mission, coming home badly beaten and bruised, that Bucky wanted to try again. He sat beside Steve, holding out the list with his human hand. Steve smiled and leaned in, kissing him on the forehead. Bucky punched him gently on the shoulder.  
"Don't you ever scare me like that again." Bucky muttered, an old routine that was never as effective as he would have liked.   
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try." Steve grinned at him, and Bucky was reminded of the time he had spent in Steve's apartment in Brooklyn. The memory didn't devour him, just hung at the edge of his memory, making him smile. He cleared his throat, waiting for Steve to look up at him.

"I've been thinking about the list. About... about what they did."  
"Oh?" Steve asked, looking at him curiously.   
"I had an idea. We don't have to go for it but..."   
Steve was silent, watching him closely. He was patient but the silence stretched on until Bucky had to fill it.

"I want to watch you." He swallowed, his mouth going dry, but without any terror coming at the words. "I want to see you touch yourself Steve."  
Steve blushed a little, but he grinned as he looked up at him.   
"Yeah. I can do that."

Bucky felt a faint glimmer of hope.  
"Now?"

Steve looked up at him and smirked.  
"You don't mess around, do you?" He asked, taking off his shirt. "Any problems, you say."  
"Yeah." Bucky agreed, settling back against the pillows and watching closely. The shy smile on Steve's face was all Steve, and as he threw his head back and moaned, Bucky felt his own cock stiffening in response, reaching down to stroke himself through his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky has been raped in the past and has become used to disassociating to survive it. During one of those episodes, he gropes Steve, but the two of them eventually work out how their relationship can work.


End file.
